If I thought Rylos's home was a little much, I was completely overwhelmed by Solys's. Whereas Rylos's had simply been a lot of wide open space filled with beautiful, glowing plants and simple decorations, Solys's seemed to be all about presenting an image.

The sort of image that said he had far more money than sense, or taste for that matter. I was starting to wonder just how much politicians were paid on Korystus. I had the idea that they were very, very important from the way Kastia and Solyndi spoke about them, but this seemed like a little much.

"This isn't a tour, Marion," Solys seethed, jerking me closer to his side. "Rylos told me all about your sneaky habits. That won't work for you here. If you misbehave, there will be punishments. You can ask your friend all about that when we get there."

"Get where?" I asked, trying to keep calm despite the not-so-subtle threat to hurt me.

"To your room, of course." He shot me a brief, yet chilling smile as we walked. "I'm afraid it's not nearly as impressive as the one Rylos gave you."

We descended from the main floor to an enclosed basement that was lit only by a few glowing plants along the top of the wall. This room was the simplest thing I'd seen here yet. It wasn't filled with gadgets or ostentatious art and furniture. It was nearly bare. There was a door in the back. Solys pulled me toward it.

He opened it and I was greeted by a dark, windowless room with a single glowing plant illuminating the cramped space. A gasp tore from my lips as I realized there was a form huddled next to the plant. It was a human. Her pale skin looked nearly translucent in the soft glow. Dark eyes framed by black hair met mine, then looked away just as quickly.

"This is where you will stay to begin with," Solys said breezily, as if there wasn't a cowering human right in front of us. "If you behave, you will be moved elsewhere. I have a firm belief that you get out what you put in, understand me? Unfortunately, my dear Naomi hasn't quite grasped that yet."

My stomach revolted as acid found its way up the back of my throat. I choked it back down, swallowing to soothe the burn. I knew exactly what he meant and I wasn't going to fair any better than Naomi. I refused to let him do whatever he wanted with me. I would sooner fight to my last breath. Being dead was preferable to being this Korysti's toy.

"I know you've got a nasty streak in you, so I'll leave you down here for a day or two." The bile rose in my throat once more as Solys brought his lips close to my ear. "We'll see how sweet you want to be after that."

He shoved me inside and the door slammed shut behind me. I stared at it in the darkness, disbelief keeping me still for a beat. I can't believe Rylos is related to this slimy bastard. That wasn't the only thought knocking me sideways. It was the fact that Rylos had given me to said slimy bastard. How could he?

I walked over to a wall, pressed my back against it and hugged my arms around myself as I slid down. The moment I let my guard down, even a little, the Korysti found yet another way to screw me over. I had honestly thought that Rylos was . . . different somehow, despite the way he initially treated me. I looked around the damp, dark room with a bitter laugh.

"Careful not to spiral," the woman huddled in the corner of the room said, "you'll drive yourself mad if you chase after those bad thoughts. I would know. I ran as far as they would take me." She let out a soft giggle. "Still can't find my way back, if I'm being honest."

"How—How long have you been down here?" I asked, even though it seemed obvious from the lilt in her voice that she wasn't all there. It'd definitely been a long time. Not that it would take long, being locked in a tiny room without windows like this one.

"A month or two, I think." She sat back and tossed up her hands, giving me the first good look at her face. I recognized her, but I couldn't remember where from. There'd been a small city's worth of us on that ship, so it wasn't exactly unusual that I wouldn't immediately know who she was. It was honestly more weird that I did recognize her.

"I'm Marion. You?"

"Naomi. It's been so long since I've heard the name Marion. Used to be a miracle to go a week without hearing it. I remember it got real confusing in school." She held up a hand. "No offense or anything."

"None taken. We went by first name, last initial in the engine room because there were three of us. It's just a fact of life for us Marions. Or, well . . . it was, I guess. I don't see very many Marions anymore."

Naomi's expression hardened. "You worked on the engines?"

It was obvious from a glance that she knew why we crashed, and that it was because we—no—because I had failed. I'd been in contact with so few humans since the crash that I never had to own up to it face-to-face. Now was that time whether I wanted it to be or not.

"Where did you work?" I asked in a soft voice.

"I was a pilot."

That would explain why I recognized her. The bridge communicated via video link with us in the engine room. I'd seen all of their faces countless times, and they had seen mine.

"You were in there, weren't you?" she asked, accusation coloring her voice, her eyes, her posture.

I nodded, slow and solemn. "Were you . . .?"

"On deck that day?" The sourness in her tone was answer enough. "I was."

I pressed my head back against the cool wall. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." It was her turn to lean back against the wall. She let out a short, humorless laugh. "I thought I recognized you. Just my luck. Getting stuck with one of the few humans I'd rather never see again."

I let my eyes fall shut. I'd always blamed myself for the crash, and I feared that others did as well. This was proof they did. I deserved it.

If I’d just done a little more . . .

I'd burned through my flesh trying to keep that ship going, yet I still thought I could've done something to prevent the crash. I didn't think I could’ve. I knew. Could I explain it? Could I break down what else I could've possibly done to keep that ship going? No. That didn't stop me from blaming myself though. It never would. But this wasn't the time for wallowing. I had the rest of my existence for that one.

I took in a deep breath, let it out, then opened my eyes. "Look, Naomi, you can hate me all you want later, but I need your help right now."

"You want my help?" Another sad laugh. "What do you think I can do for you? How can I make your stay in Solys's little prison cell more pleasant? Tell me and I'll happily accommodate you."

"By helping me get out of it. I'll make sure you get out too. I promise."

"You promise?" She gave me a wry half-smile. "Sure."

"I'm good at finding ways out of places."

My thoughts took a brief trip back to my time at Rylos's. I hadn't ever really tried to escape, had I? No, I hadn't. Rylos's home had grown comfortable to me. And some part of me missed it.

I missed seeing Kastia and Solyndi every morning. I missed reading about the planet's history on my tablet. I missed that tooth-achingly sweet drink that I had with breakfast every morning. I hadn't appreciated any of it. Rylos hadn't exactly made that part easy. Not at all. But I'd done my fair share of making things difficult, hadn't I? Even then, if he hadn't been such a nightmare at first—Ugh.

Honestly, my biggest motivator for getting out of here was to give him a piece of my mind. In fact, it made me downright confident I wouldn't be here for long.

"So," Naomi began slowly, her curiosity piqued. "How exactly do you plan to get out of a room with no lock on the inside, no windows, and a vent far too tiny for a mouse to crawl through?"

"Solys," I replied simply.

"Are you insane?"

"You're going to convince him you're ready to behave."

"I'm definitely not."

I gave her a flat look. "You better if you ever want to get out of here. Just trust me."

"That didn't work out so well for me last time, did it?"

I closed my eyes once more and knotted my hands together, clenching them tight. I deserved every word but that didn't make it hurt any less. Hopefully I could redeem myself a little by getting her out of here. Although, I was starting to lose faith in hope.